Damaged
by Sumire
Summary: An angsty ficlet involving OmixAya shounen-ai implications. Not for the extremely sensitive. Language warning


Disclaimer: ...I stole Brad Crawford and Schuldig, and they're locked in my bedroom. I'm willing to share them with anyone who'll give me C&C. Feedback much needed and adored...tell me what you think. Isn't it worth some time with two sexy bishounen?!  
Warning: Shounen-ai implications, major angst and stuff. But nothing yaoi. No lemon/lime content. Believe me, minna-sama, it's for the best, SUMIRE CAN'T WRITE YAOI. o_O;;;  
Stupid Comment: I took a break from writing an Omi angst fic to write this Omi angst at two in the damn morning. Keep in mind I wrote this when I wasn't really able to think beyond "Hey, I'm awake, look, I can read the digital clock and it says 2 AM." That would be why it's so retarded...er, just like me.   
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
The three of us, down in the shop that morning, heard the muffled gunshot from upstairs. All three of our heads jerked up instinctively at the noise, eyes wide with shock and ears attentive. My heart pounded out a speedy rhythm in my chest. A headache throbbed at my temples.   
  
Ken spoke first. "I-I think it was from upstairs..."  
  
Yohji stubbed out his cigarette. He quickly flew up the stairs to where we kept our residence, in the apartment above. I heard the door at the top of the stairs open.   
  
"Goddamnit, Yohji," Ken hissed, following. "Be careful. It could be - "  
  
"-SHUT UP!"   
  
I followed last. An electric shock of worry stung me. "Oh gods..."  
  
While the other two carefully searched the apartment for a sign of any intrusion, I flew striaght to Omi's room, afraid of what I would find.   
  
/What if Schwarz-/   
  
I was afraid they had killed him.....  
  
The cold metal of the doorhandle shocked me back into reality. I slowly opened the door. When I first opened it, I could see a small hand. As I pushed the door further, it extended into a navy-blue clad arm, attached to -   
  
- the rest of Omi. Dead. A gun on the floor... It was apparent enough what had happened...he had shot himself.....  
  
"Jesus fucking CHRIST!!" I screamed. Ken and Yohji appeared behind me in the doorway within seconds. I heard their sickedned, shocked cries, and then I heard the sound of sobbing. I didn't know who the sound came from until I realized that hot tears flowed down my face. I covered my face with my hands and let them flow.   
  
"We-we'll go close up the shop and call the police," Ken offered.  
  
Yohji patted me on the shouluder. I spun around. "Don't touch me," I hissed, glaring angrily at the blur in front of me.   
  
He disappeared down the hall along with Ken. I closed the door to his room and dragged myself to my own bedroom. Closing the door quietly behind me, I crossed the room and slumped into my leather chair. Everything in the room was a blur - the bed, the dresser, the sheet of paper on the bed-  
  
-Sheet of paper on the bed?  
  
Curious, I stood up and crossed the room, picking up the sheet of paper and glancing at it, scanning the words...  
  
Why couldn't you love me?   
  
Why couldn't anyone love me? Am I really so unlovable, so completely, sickeningly, shockingly pathetic that nobody could find it worth their time to invest their feelings in me?  
  
...My own father couldn't love me. When they kidnapped me, took me away from those I loved, I saw just how one-sided that love was. The man who had made my life possible, the one who had brought me into this corrupt, hateful world, didn't see fit to pay ransom to get me back. He left me to them, left me to die. Am I really that worthless, unlovable?  
  
I guess I am...  
  
My own sister tried to seduce me. I didn't know she was my...sister...  
  
Ouka, my very own beloved younger sister, seduced me and tried to weaken me to the enemy, attempted to pull me away from my own teammates and join with the enemy. The enemy that was my family. My own father...the enemy....  
  
...The man who left me to die and would surely do so again.  
  
The man who even let my own sister die at the hands of his bodyguards...  
  
I was raised by another man. Trained to kill. He trained me in the ways of murder, taught me to throw my darts with a steady hand and unerring, fatal accuracy. My purpose of living became to end the lives of others. Before I knew that the ways of murder in which I had been trained were wrong, before I could choose to live my life my own way, I was forced to kill. Forced to kill because I wasn't good enough to live for myself; forced to kill because such a vile, loathsome task was all that I deserved. All that my abandoned, destroyed soul could possibly expect out of life.   
  
Every kill I make adds to the painiful burden, the weight on my heart. The physical and emotional ache I feel is enough to drive me to suicide...  
  
....and then there's you, Aya. You were the reason for which I took my burdens upon myself. I didn't want you to know how unlovable I really was. I just wanted you to feel for me the same I felt about you, though I knew the chances of that were slim that anyone, especially you, would return my love.   
  
I would look at you and wonder why you had chosen this way of life, a creature as beautiful and perfect as you are. I know your sister means everything to you, and that you want to avenge what has happened to her. It's foolish for me to love you. Your love of your sister has taken over every bit of love left in that cold heart of yours, and there's none left for me.   
  
I still can't help it....  
  
The day I told you how I felt, the look of horror, the expression of pained shock, stabbed me more painfully than the blade of your katana ever could. The way your pale amythest eyes widened and then narrowed, glazed with tears.....  
  
That dead tone of voice in which you spoke your words..."Omi...I-this just isn't-it's not right. I can't love you. I don't."  
  
The way you turned away from me and slammed the door of your bedroom and shut me out...  
  
...I just can't continue living like this, Aya. I just hope that as you read this note that I'm leaving behind that you might understand why I had to do this, and I'm sorry that I ever told you how I felt instead of just keeping those feelings to myself. We both would have been better off.   
  
I don't want to die. I'm scared, Aya. The only thing I want is for you to hold me in your arms, hold me to you, tell me that you love me and that everything will be all right. I know it would never happen. So I'm leaving those I loved most, because once again, they just didn't love me back. I can't take it anymore. My life is worthless, wasted, meaningless.  
  
I just want you to know that I still love you anyway...  
  
I sunk down onto the bed. "Oh, Omi," I moaned, more burning, scalding tears spilling down my cheeks. "Omi..."  
  
/I feel so empty, soulless, so hollow...and so cruel. I can't live knowing I've killed you, Omi. Especially because I did love you.../  
  
I knew what I had to do. I folded the letter and stood from the bed, placing it on the dresser, and I unsheathed my katana, ready to be with Omi again. 


End file.
